Got Guardian Angel?
by MidnyghtVampyrezz
Summary: After Fang and max have a small fight, Max's guardian angel named Andrew, who just so happens to look like Orlando Bloom, tells her that she better make up with him, or else! Lives are at stake, namely their eight or maybe more kids! CHAOS! FAX!
1. OMG! Orlando Bloom!

**Everyone has a guardian angel, right?**

**Anyone that has seen "Forever Darling" w/ Lucy Ball and Desi—this is kind of a take off of that, but you didn't hear that from me…**

**Disclaimer: I only own Andrew. I don't own Orlando Bloom. I own a book about Ewan McGregor. I don't own Max, or Fang. I'm sorry! runs off crying **

**Back.**

**S****e**_**A**_

•••

"Shut-up, Fang!" I screamed, shoving him hard. "Don't you start telling me what to do too! I hear it from Jeb too much as it is! Now you too!"

Fang opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him short.

"Erg! Go…go write on your stupid blog or something!" With that, I turned sharply on my heel and stormed out of the room.

Tried to, anyways.

Fang grabbed my arm and yanked me back. His dark eyes penetrated mine as he hissed, "Max, you're impossible. I don't want to see you hurt. _I care._"

"Yea, I'm sure," I bit out, before successfully shaking him off, and stomping out of the hotel room.

Alright, here's the deal: we were staying in a hotel somewhere in Texas, I'm guessing Houston. And, just for the record, no, Fang and I did not share a bedroom. I got cash, peeps! I can pay for a _suite_! In one of the rooms, there was a bunk and a separate bed—Ig and Gazzy took the bunks, and Fang took the cot. Nudge, Angel and I all took the master bedroom—as Angel said, it was like having a major sleepover, what with all of us girls together!

Well, we'd been there for less than an hour when his Royal Highness Prince Fang started bugging me about getting a "permanent residence". Oh yea, that was real smart.

_Not_.

I mean, come on. Here we are, running for our lives, and he wants to look in to houses. What's up with that?

I stood in front of my closed bedroom door, shaking. I hated it when Fang and I fought; it was like World War III or something. The flock hated it too—especially after the episode with Ari, it really kind of split the flock in two. Boys vs. Girls.

"Aw, there you are. I was wondering when you'd come."

I stiffened. _Was that an _English_ accent!!!_

"Do not be alarmed. I'm just your—"

I whirled around my fists out, ready to defend myself. Someone _I did not know_ was in my bedroom! And he had an _English_ accent!

Fang! I had to get Fang!

I prepared a scream, but as soon as I laid eyes on the man before me, the scream died in my throat.

What did he look like, you ask? Tall, dark, and handsome.

And _very_ familiar.

"Oh my gosh!" I screeched. "Orlando Bloom!"

_Orlando Bloom_—as in Will Turner. His chocolate brown hair was actually fairly long—to his shoulders, about. But it was all cute and wavy, and really hot…and then of course there was the faint mustache thing…

The guy blinked. "I look like Orlando Bloom, huh?" He glanced at himself in the nearby mirror. "Wow. That's pretty cool…I think Gabe looks like Ewan McGregor…or maybe that's Mike…" He turned back to me. "My name's Andrew. I'm your guardian angel."

I couldn't help it—my jaw dropped. "My _what_?!"

Err…_Andrew_…grinned. "Your guardian angel."

I had to get a hold of myself. I mean, I was dreaming, right?

I casually wiped away a bit of drool…gosh, he was so hot…almost as hot as Fang… "If you're my _guardian angel_, than…why do you look like Orlando Bloom? What's keeping me from thinking that you're just some well-designed robot that Jeb sent after me?"

"Well," Andrew said, raking a hand through his dark, curly hair. "To your first question, I look like what you _want_ me to look like. To the second, how else would I know that you were having marital problems, and to come here right after you had a fight with your husband?"

"My _what_?!" I shrieked for the second time in as many minutes.

Now it was Andrew's turn to be shocked. "Wait a sec—how old are you exactly? At this moment?"

"Fourteen!"

"Oh." Andrew blushed as he fumbled for the notebook I'd just now noticed in his back pocket. He flipped through the pages for a moment, and then paused. He scanned the page quickly, then said, "I must have gotten this all mixed up. Sorry. Right now, your having problems with Fang, your _friend_ soon to be _boyfriend_, not your _husband_." He muttered, "Though I don't see what the big deal is. I mean, it's the same person and everything."

"Huh?"

Andrew continued as if I hadn't even interrupted, "Alright, if it makes you feel any better, you don't have any marital trouble when you grow-up. The occasional spat, which usually ends up…err…well, I guess. You end up with eight kids, so, I mean—"

"_Eight kids_?!" _Holy… _"Eight kids?" I repeated, dazed. "Oh my—"

Andrew held up a hand. "Careful. Yea, and they'll all be nice and health, and very pretty." He slammed the book shut. "Happy?"

I nodded dumbly, both entranced by Orlando's—I mean Andrew's—looks, and the fact that he just told me Fang and I were going to have eight kids. I mean seriously—_eight kids!_

"But," he continued, "if you and Fang don't solve this thing, some of this won't happen. And anyways, your right—you shouldn't get a house. Yet. You need to stay on the move for a little while longer…think I heard something about Antarctica…penguins are just adorable…err… Right, back to work."

"So," he finished, "Will you forgive him?"

For a long moment, I just stood there. And, then, without even a word, I turned and ran towards the door, trying to get it open as fast as I could. I mean, come on—we had eight lives at stake here!

I heard Andrew's beautiful laugh from behind me. "Tell Fang Jr. "hi" for me!"

As soon as Max was out of site, Andrew pulled out the booklet again, and turned to one of the many pages he'd marked.

"Told Max about kids? Check." To himself, he murmured, "No need telling her about _all_ of them. Don't want to scare her or anything…twelve is a pretty big number...so is fifteen… Did everything else…that should do."

He looked up, slipping the book back into the pocket of his jeans.

"Wonder how Angie's doing with Fang?"

•••

**Hey, what did you think? It's probably going to be a two-shot—the next chapter is Fang with **_**his**_** guardian angel. Hey, speaking of which, who do you think she should look like? Probably should be some famous person, like Keira Knightley or Avril Lavigne or something.**

**Oh, and notice how Andrew said "**I think Gabe looks like Ewan McGregor…or maybe that's Mike…"** Isn't there an angel Michael? And of course, we have Gabriel…**


	2. Why's Keira Knightley In Fang's Room?

**Disclaimer: I only own Angie and Andrew. That's it. Completely. Zip. (I love that guy! Zip Martin, in "Down With Love"! Mostly cause it's Ewan McGregor, and he is/was/always-will-be cute, and he has a Scottish accent, and he's doing a country accent, and he's just so dang cute, and I'm just so dang off-topic…)**

**Right.**

**Enjoy!**

**  
Please tell me of any errors you see on this page, and I'll try to fix it. Promise. "Cross me 'eart and 'ope to spit!"**

**S****e**_**A**_

•••

It wasn't really that Fang was mad at Max; it was more that he was mad at himself. After that last incident with Itex, he had secretly begun to agree that they should wait on the house. And heck, he knew he shouldn't have brought the subject, shouldn't have provoked her, but she was just so dang cute when she was mad…

_Whoa_, Fang thought, grabbing the edge of his hotel door for support. _Snap out of it, man! She doesn't care about you any other way than a sister would._

He raked a hand through his long dark hair. Max had told him to cut it a few days ago, but being the guy he was, Fang had ignored her.

_Max…_

With a sigh, he opened the door to his room—well, the room he, Ig, and Gazzy shared. "She doesn't give a dang about me," he muttered. Actually, he didn't think she really gave a damn either, but that was beside the point.

"Does this dress make me look fat?"

Fang's head whipped up. _What the heck?_

In that single moment, he realized two things—one, there was a person _he did not know_ in his room. Two—there was a _girl_ in his room.

After all, no matter what, he was still a guy.

Fang blinked. "Huh?"

The girl—woman, really—huffed. "I asked you if this dress makes me look fat."

She was tall—almost as tall as Max. _Hmm…well-shaped legs…nice hips…tiny waist…err….chest….Max is going to kill me…_

And then he got a good look at her face.

He stumbled back. "Oh my gosh! Keira Knightely!"

She tapped her foot impatiently, her hands on her hips. "Yea, I kinda picked it up already that I look like her. Deal."

Fang shook his head, trying to clear it. "Wait—no. You _can't_ be Knightley. I mean, what would she be doing in my bedroom? Err…never mind." He paused. "How do I know that you aren't some new thing made-up by Jeb?"

"I should have mentioned this earlier—my name's Angie. I'm your guardian angel."

Alright, now he'd heard everything.

"What?"

_Angie_ sighed, exasperated. "Your guardian angel."

"Where are your wings?"

"I didn't think they looked good with this outfit, so I left them in my closet," she said, glancing around the room. "And if I was thought up by Jeb, then how would I know that you've had a crush on Keira Knightley almost as long as Max has had one on Orlando Bloom?"

"Max has a crush on Orlando Bloom?!" Fang cried, grabbing the nearby chair.

Angie raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

"Err…no. No, of course not." He thought for a second. "And I don't have a crush on Keira Knightley!"

"Right." Angie shifted slightly. "Well, I came here to tell you that you need to go apologize to Max and beg her forgiveness. You know you're wrong, she knows your wrong, I know your wrong, and Andrew knows your wrong. I think that pretty much means your wrong."

"Uh?" Fang asked, scratching his head. "Who's Andrew?"

"Never mind. Now, are you going to tell Max your sorry, or do I have to tell you more?"

"Huh?"

Angie rolled her eyes. "Men can be _so_ stupid," she muttered. "Listen, if you don't go and tell Max that you will go to the end of the Earth and back for her, that you were wrong and that she was right, and that you love her for who she is, than there will be a few problems. Namely, you won't ask her to marry you in five years, three months and four days, and you won't have tons of kids."

He pursed his lip. "How many kids, exactly?"

"Well…" Angie thought for a moment. "Last I heard, it was roughly sixteen—but that may have changed since then." She shook her finger at a _very_ shocked Fang. "But, if you don't tell her that you were wrong—which you were, mind you—than this is _not going to happen_. Get it?"

He nodded quickly. "Got it."

For the first time since she'd arrived at the hotel, Angie smiled. "Alright, now go get her!"

Fang was going to Max's room when he saw her…_running towards him_.

"Fang!" she shouted. He caught her in his arms and spun her around, both out of fun and to try and lesson the momentum. About a second later, he put her back on the ground.

"Sorry," he muttered, to embarrassed to look at her.

She smiled, her face flushed as well. "So am I—I acted pretty bad, huh?"

He gave one of those almost-grins that always sent her heart thumping. "Yea."

Max blinked quickly. "Yes, well, sorry. I…I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, just you know, hormones and all that, I was pretty upset, and—"

She was beginning to babble; she was nervous. Maybe it was the way Fang was staring at her, staring in a way he'd never done before. Or maybe it was the fact that he had slid his arm around her waist. Or maybe she could hear his heart going at eighty miles an hour.

"Shut-up," he suddenly murmured huskily, as he pulled her a bit closer. His lips crashed into hers, and in the back of his mind, Fang was praying that he wasn't doing anything stupid.

But then, Max's arms slowly wrapped around his neck as she began to kiss him back, and he knew that everything—_everything_—was going to be all right.

"So, how did it go?"

Angie motioned over to where the two new lovers stood. "How do you _think_ it went?"

Andrew shrugged. "Well, I wasn't sure if that was my doing or yours."

"Mine, all mine. After all, _he_ kissed her first."

"Yea, well," Andrew defended, "it _is_ kind of customary for the guy to kiss the girl, you know. Edward kissed Bella first in Twilight. Will kissed Elizabeth first in "Pirates of the Caribbean"."

"But," interrupted Angie, "Elizabeth kissed Jack first in the second movie."

"And we all saw how _that_ went," Andrew said sarcastically. He suddenly realized something. "Hey, look! We're twinkies!"

Angie raised an eyebrow. "We're _what_?"

"Twinkies!" He motioned between the two of them. "You look like Keira Knightley—I look like Orlando Bloom. Elizabeth Swan…Will Turner…isn't that cool?"

"You been watching chick-flicks again, haven't you?"

Andrew blushed and shook his head adamantly. "No! Well…at least not lately… But that's beside the point!"

Angie sighed. "Whatever. So—see you here in about, oh…six years?"

He cocked his head to side. "Why?"

"Cause that's the wedding! You _are_ coming to that, right? We _have_ to see our handy-work!"

"Yea…I guess…"

"Good," said Angie, clasping her hands together. "See you then."

"I love you Max."

"I love you too, Fang."

•••

**THE END!!! For now…until further notice…maybe…right.**

**Hope you enjoyed…yea, I know Fang was a little OOC (out of character) for a while, but heck, if you saw Keira Knightley standing in **_**your**_** room, I'm sure u'd b a little OOC too.**

**Oh—does anyone think I should do one more chap (or 2) of like when Andrew and Angie go to the wedding, or w/ all the kids? Anyone?**

**S****e**_**A**_


	3. Give Me Ten Dolla

**Disclaimer: I own Mikey, Andy, and Angie (as it were.) Nobody else is mine. (except any other angels mentioned) Technically, it is my ten dolla, but I'll just let Iggy have it. ;P**

**Thanks for all the reviews! I feel so loved!**

**Enjoy! Sorry it's so short, but hey, it's something!**

**Oh, btw—I mean to do "dolla". Like "doll-uh."**

**S****e**_**A**_

•••

"So, you caught Max and Fang kissing, huh?"

Nudge nodded quickly. "Yep. I was just walkin' down the hall, minding my own business—"

"They usually are," Iggy interrupted.

"—when I turned the corner and—BAM—there they were _kissing_! Can you believe it? I mean seriously, _kissing_!"

Iggy was quiet for a moment. Suddenly he shout, "Gazzy, get in here!"

The eight-year-old jogged into the room. "Yea?"

Iggy stood slowly and held out his hand. "Pay up."

"Huh?"

"Nudge saw Max and Fang kissing in the hallway. You owe me ten dolla. Pay."

Gazzy cocked his head to side. "Cereally?"

"Dead cereal. Now _pay_."

Now it was Nudge's turn to look confused. "Dead cereal? What?"

Both boys ignored her.

The Gassman reached into his pocket. "I only have two ones."

Iggy raised an eyebrow. "Right. You owe me ten dolla."

Gazzy shifted nervously. "How about a five?"

"Ten dolla," repeated Iggy.

"Fine," Gaz muttered, sticking his hand into his pocket violently. "Here's your "ten dolla" as you say."

Ig smiled as he took the bill. "_My_ ten dolla."

•••

"Hey, Mike!" Angie cried as she ran up to one of her friends. "Are you busy?"

Mike shrugged. "Well…I _was_ going to go talk to go talk to go give Paris Hilton a little pep-talk, butt I suppose that can wait." He made a face. "So long as I don't have to look like Orlando Bloom. He's a great guy and all—isn't Merry _his_ guardian angel?—but I _always_ have to look like him."

"Well, he _is_ the most Googled man in the world."

"True." Mike paused. "Well? What do you need?"

Angie bit her lip—Mike was great and stuff, but she wasn't sure if he would agree to this or not. "Well, I've been watching these two kids—they're fourteen and eleven—and, well…I think they should get together."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "So…you want me to play matchmaker?"

"Err…yes. You and…and maybe Abby?"

Mike was silent for a moment, as he complicated. "Who would I have to look like??"

"Err…I think maybe Ewan McGregor or something. Not sure, exactly…"

"Fine, I'll do it."

•••

I suddenly broke off the kiss when I heard giggling in the background. I whipped around, but the culprit was gone.

Fang chuckled slightly from behind me. "Probably Nudge."

I turned back to him. "Yea, probably."

He gave me one of his signature half-smiles, making my heart do back-flips. "You know, for a guy with social issues," I murmured, pulling him a bit closer, "you're not a bad kisser."

"I was only practicing," he said, as he leaned in once again.

•••

**Sorry it was so short, but I wanted **_**something**_** to be up! I'm dragging this a bit, seeing how I like it, thinking about making it a long one, instead of just a few shots.**

**Who should Nudge and Ig's guardian angel's look like? (oh, there's a twist u didn't see coming! ;P JK. Half of ya'll pro'lly knew I was **_**so**_** going to do that! Hehe.)**

**Um…thanks for all the reviews! Reviews r luv!**

**The only thing about doing a first date, is it kinda hard 4 them to **_**have**_** a first date…but hey, I'll get it. Figure it out…heck, maybe if I'm lucky, I'll be still writing this in spring, when I think (heard, anyways) that MR4 comes out! Yea!**

**S****e**_**A**_


	4. The First Date,,,Well, Getting Ready

**I'M ACTUALLY UPDATING! OMG, OMG, OMG!!! I can't believe it! (and I'm sure u can't either! ;P )**

**Disclaimer: I own Angie. I own Mike. I own Andrew. I own Abby. I OWN THE WORLD! MWHAHAHA! MWHAHA! Right. Whatev. In my nightmares. No, wait—**_**in yours!**_** MWHAHAHA! MWHAHA!**

**Right.**

**Disclaimer (the right one): I don't own the flock, Orlando Bloom (sadly), Keira Knightley (not sure if she's even mentioned, but oh well), Zack, Zach, or Zekk Effron (no idea), or…or…or…or Alex Pettyfer (**_**runs off crying**_

**If I spelled Zack (or is it Zach?) Effron wrong, I'm sorry.**

**I can never tell if a chapter is very long or not, so…I hope this one is! If not…I'm sorry. (Gonna try to go write for Opera in a sec. Note **_**try**_

**I'm trying to decide if I like Ella and Iggy as a couple better than Niggy or not. I mean, I'm a complete Fax 100, butt not sure about Niggy (sorry). I mean, I'm not against it (Nudge is 11, btw) at all, I'm just sure which I like better…**

•••••

_Oh-my-God-oh-my-God-oh-my-God!_

I straightened my shirt as I studied myself in the mirror. Jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, hair pulled back in a rather small, messy ponytail. Not much, but when you were on the run, one couldn't really afford to be picky.

Even when you were going out on their first date with the guy you'd had a crush on since you were old enough to even _have_ crushes.

_Oh-my-God-oh-my-God-oh-my-God!_

"You look good, Max."

I spun around quickly, automatically moving into a fighting stance. When I saw who it was, I relaxed.

"Oh, hey, Andy."

The angel stood from where he'd been sitting on the edge of my bed. "Hey, Max. Have fun with your date." He paused for a moment, almost seeming to stare right past me, then smiled and looked back at me.

"I'm pretty sure both of you are going to have a _very_ good time."

I blushed crimson. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He just winked at me with his dark, Orlando Bloom eyes, before disappearing into thin air before me.

•••

Angie smiled as she stared at the boy she'd been assigned to watch. He hadn't noticed her appear, and was still frantically searching for something to wear—who ever knew a guy could be so picky?

"You know what? I really wouldn't suggest wearing that."

Fang nearly jumped out of skin and he quickly whipped around, a fist already up and prepared to hit something.

"Not you again!" he groaned, dropping the shirt in his hand.

Angie ignored his comment (though she _was_ the person that had gotten him and Max together in the first place), instead pointing to the discarded piece of clothing.

"That has _got_ to be the ugliest thing I have ever seen." She paused, contemplating. "You should wear your usual black ensemble—it won't be as awkward, and it'll be easier for you to get up the nerve to kiss her." She blinked. "If I'm not mistaken, you actually _propose_ to her in black…"

Fang raised an eyebrow. "Black? But she _hates_ it when I wear that."

Angie grinned wickedly. "Well, I guess we'll have to compromise."

Fang had seen that look on Iggy enough to know that it meant _bad_. "Um…like what?"

"Your hair."

"NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

•••

Nudge sighed as she stared at the picture in her hands. The dreamy blonde lock hat hung over one brilliant blue eye, the beautiful, unblemished complexion, and easy smile. Tall and lithe. The hottest boy in the world, and enough to make any girl's heart flutter wildly.

_Alex Pettyfer_.

Max thought Orlando Bloom was better, but Nudge knew otherwise. Blonde guys were _way_ hotter than brunettes—it was a known fact.

He was only like seventeen—_completely_ in her league. He was even better than another one of her crushes—Zack Effron. (And that was saying something.)

Though, of course, neither of them compared to—

"Hey, Nudge, do you by any chance have a lighter?"

She looked up quickly, stuffing the scrap of paper under her hotel pillow. "Hmm?"

Iggy tapped his foot impatiently. "Uh, you know, a light? I was making a bomb, and I wanted to test it."

"Max would kill you…and then probably come after me too."

He just smiled evilly. "Exactly." 

"Whatev."

"Do you have a lighter?" Iggy repeated, leaning against the door frame.

"Why would I have a lighter? I don't smoke or anything."

He shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask. Didn't want to have to ask Fang for his—he's been acting kinda funny lately—"

"Yea, well, he _is_ going out with max for the first time," Nudge said with a shrug. "According to Angel, they've been in love with each other for years."

Iggy pursed his lip in thought. Then he asked softly, "Do you think they love each other? I mean, _really_ love each other? Unconditionally?"

Nudge's voice was soft as she murmured, "Yea, they love each other. A lot. He's willing to die for her—nearly has a coupla times, actually."

"According to Ang?"

She nodded.

He was silent a moment.

"Do you believe in true love?" he finally said.

Nudge was suddenly glad that Iggy was blind so that he couldn't see the blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Yea."

"Me too."

The door shut, and Nudge glanced up quickly. What _that_ been about? Why was Ig asking her about…about _love_.

"Well, you know, I for one believe in true love. Seen it happen to lovely people enough times to believe it."

Nudge swung around quickly, a scream rising in her throat.

"Oh my God! Alex Pettyfer!"

The blonde seventeen-year-old looking boy graced her with a heart-fluttering lop-sided grin. "I look like him alright. Glad too—I think I would have just about died if I'd had to look like Zack Effron or Orlando Bloom again." He paused. "No pun intened."

Nudge's brow wrinkled. "Huh?"

He laughed. "Whatev. Name's Michael. I'm your guardian angel."

"Oh, my—"

"Careful. You heard me correctly. And no, I'm not a figment of your imagination." He stuck a pose. "I look to good for that."

That was a moment of silence, before Nudge asked nervously, "Uh…so, whatcha doin' here, Mike?"

He shook his head, surprised. "Wow. That's new—it usually takes up to ten minutes of explaining for someone to actually believe."

Nudge's eyebrows rose. "I am a genetically enhanced bird-hybrid. My sister's half-brother was part dog. I have _wings_. You think I'm not used to the slightly abnormal?"

Mike blushed. "Uh…right." He raked a hand through his blonde hair. "Well, it's about Iggy…"

•••

Iggy was about to knock on Fang's door, when his overly sensitive ears picked up voices in the room. He couldn't quite make out the words, but it sounded like just one person.

So…now Fang was talking to himself. Or inanimate objects.

Well, _that_ was new.

"Hey, Fang?" he called out, this time letting his fist meet the hard wood. "Fang?"

The talking ceased, and there was the sound of scrambling about, before the door burst open.

"Yea?" Fang asked, opening the door.

"Um…hey, man…were you just _talking_ to yourself?"

There was a pause.

"Uh…no. Radio."

_Right._

"Well," said Iggy, deciding just to ignore Fang for now, "I wanted to borrow your lighter."

"Sure."

Fang tossed him the piece of metal from his pocket, and then quickly slammed the door.

"Weird," Iggy muttered as he headed back for his room.

What was wrong with everyone? First Max and Fang randomly run into the hallway and kiss each other, then they decide to go on a date. Fang is having a nervous breakdown, Max is being…_girly_…and then Nudge was…_wasn't talking that much_.

And then of course, he'd done that stupid thing—asked her about love.

"Iggy the idiot, that's me," he said to himself as he closed his door behind him.

"You better believe it."

"Who the hell are you?!" was his immediate response, as he shifted into a fighting position.

There was the sound of a thousand tinkling bells as the girl—cause Iggy knew it _definitely _was a female race—laughed merrily.

"My name's Abby—I'm your guardian angel."

Iggy fell back against the wall. "Oh, God, I've finally cracked."

More giggling.

"Hardly. I wouldn't be here if you had."

Iggy thought for a moment. "You sound familiar—have we met before?"

Abby sighed. "Nope. I sound familiar to you because I look and have the voice of Angelina Jolie—you know, that lady Fang tells you is so sexy?"

Iggy blushed. "Uh…"

"Yea, well, that's who I look like. Cooli, right?"

"Uh…"

"Well, I'm here bout Nudge."

"What about her?" he asked, confused.

Guardian angels? Angelina Jolie? Nudge?

"Well, about how much you love her, of course!"

"Huh?"

"How much you love her!" she cried. "_You are in love with her, whether you want to be or not!_"

•••••

**Call it a cliffhanger, or call it a pathetic ending. In all honesty, I don't really care. Because I'm just happy I updated (;P) Well, hopefully, I'll finish the Opera chapter (note **_**hopefully**_**). I already have the outline for the chapter…and the talkshow…(**_**ducks head**_**) Oh well. All in good time.**

**Btw, look up Alex Pettyfer on Google. I **_**dare**_** you!**

**REVIEWS ARE LUV!**

**S****e**_**A**_


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